Billy-Jean Ray sat at his dining room table with his wife, reading his newspaper, and drinking coffee. He was a taller man, with beige skin and short brown hair, which was beginning to turn gray. He was a rich oil man who was very muscular, not that his job required muscles, though. He was going to use his money to build an extremely expensive under-water apartment building, which should be ready in June 2010.
“Hey Marge, look at this,” he said to his wife, “This soccer coach’s murder is still unsolved. We’re in April 2002, and still no answer. This shows us what police are good for!” Margery nodded, but said nothing. Once, just once, she wished Billy would spend time with her. She wanted kids, but she knew that her time to have a baby was almost over.
“You know, sweetie, the sink is getting dirty, and I’m already late for work…” mentioned Billy.
“I’ll get right to it,” sighed Margery. She would be happy with a simple kiss. Continue reading